


Tomorrow

by somnivagrantTraviatus



Series: TaiQrow Nonsense [2]
Category: RWBY
Genre: M/M, Pre-Canon, not necessarily romantic but there is kissing, what's a little tactile reassurance between pals. between gamers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:08:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24122614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somnivagrantTraviatus/pseuds/somnivagrantTraviatus
Summary: With Yang and Ruby both at Signal, Tai pays Qrow a visit to soothe old griefs. It made more sense before he got there.Inspired by Mika.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen & Taiyang Xiao Long, Qrow Branwen + Taiyang Xiao Long, Qrow Branwen/Taiyang Xiao Long
Series: TaiQrow Nonsense [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2126112
Comments: 5
Kudos: 38





	Tomorrow

This is a bad idea.

Tai parks the truck and sits staring at the apartment complex. Bleary eyes find the shadow lurking at the door just before it rises to its feet, and with each step it takes, his knuckles clench around the tattered steering wheel.

Gods, this is _such_ a bad idea.

Qrow taps on the window. “You gonna sit in there all night?”

“Maybe I need a minute before seeing your ugly mug.” His fists clench – too close. Too real, when Qrow’s eyes pick him apart just like Raven’s did. But Raven’s eyes never held grief the way his do. Only Summer kept her grief buried like this, Summer and Qrow.

 _Buried._ Hah. That nameless feeling roars again. He lets it shove him out into the parking lot, lets satisfaction flicker through him when Qrow jumps at the slamming door. “How many have you had tonight?”

“Just two.” He rakes a hand through his hair, a tight, bitter smile the only sign he recognizes the barb for what it is. “I was busy grading, til you showed up. Tai, it's two AM, what are you doing here?”

That douses it. “Shit,” Tai breathes, the last of the fight curling like smoke out of his mouth. “I didn't think it was so late.” Or cold. He huffs, quietly cursing himself when it wisps into another cloud.

Qrow herds him away from the truck with a snort. “Doesn't answer the question, Tai.”

He's placed himself between Tai and the wind. Flanking him. _Their old TQ maneuver._ Safety and self-loathing trade blows in his gut, and he shoves himself off Qrow’s crumbling front stoop. “It doesn't matter. Get some sleep. I'm going back to Patch.”

“Tai. Come on.” He crosses his arms, firmly planted. “Whatever brought you here, the girls don’t deserve to deal with it.” 

Tai hisses – low blow. He opens his mouth, prepared to deny it, but Qrow steamrolls right over him. “And I'm not enough of an idiot to believe nothing’s up after the text you sent me.”

The tap to his scroll is a threat. They both know Qrow isn’t above shoving it in his face. Isn’t above reading out the words Tai agonized over, trying to let out any part of the overwhelming _grief_ without ripping at the tender scab between them. Just remembering he sent it is enough to make his hands tremble. He doesn’t need to remember what it says. “The smiley face too much?”

“When you've barely smiled at the kids all week and we both know you hate me? Yeah, it was a little much!” Qrow’s incredulous laughter curdles in Tai’s throat. _I only hate you sometimes_ , he wants to say, but this is Qrow, and him, and a defense like that wouldn't hold up against a baby Boarbatusk. “C’mon. You're already here. Let's get out of the cold.”

And… what? Spend the night? No. Tai lost that right the first time he punched him. “I'm not setting foot in that dump you call an apartment.”

“Alright, so we’ll sit out here in your broken-down rustbucket.” He shrugs, loose and fluid, and moseys through the lot, all easy grace despite the exposed line of his back and Tai behind him. Like this, Tai can almost believe nothing’s changed – that the ladies are just waiting at home, that they’re all still a team. That there isn't this nameless chasm between them. 

He swallows the lump in his throat. “Don't talk about Cliffjumper like that.”

“Your esteemed vintage pickup. Whatever.” He hops into the truckbed. It's an easy leap, compared to the ones they made out in the field, but he hangs weightless for a moment – like his body remembers it could fly away. Like gravity itself begs permission to count him as its subject, and for a moment, Tai’s breath is gone. Then Qrow is yanking him into the bed, and, despite every reason he shouldn't, Tai settles next to him.

Under him, when Qrow rolls to perch on his legs. There's something tender in his eyes. In the brush of his fingers against Tai’s chin. Tai squeezes his eyes shut. “This is a bad idea,” he says, voice husky and small against the night. “I'm gonna regret this tomorrow.”

“So worry about it tomorrow. Who gives a shit?” That would earn a glare, if not for hard-won familiarity with Qrow’s humor. But “Might as well enjoy it while you can,” he continues. “You know how _lucky_ we are.” 

Lucky? _Lucky?_ The wound _burns._ No one left in the kitchen, just stray feathers he still keeps in his dresser. Just an empty grave and an empty house and a fucking bad luck charm with an empty flask.

But Qrow is here, cool against Tai’s rage-taut skin, watching him with a smirk that dares him to let those thoughts out. The one Summer called his _I’m fine_ smirk. “‘sides, as bad ideas go, at least I'm a pretty one.”

It's so much easier to be angry at that smirk when Tai can’t see the plastic edges. 

He grips Qrow’s chin and drags him down where he can kiss him. Where he can say _yes_ and _you're more than that_ and _I’m sorry_ and _you’re all I have left_ , and when Qrow looks at him with kind red eyes, the last they have of Summer and Raven – when he says _let me take care of you_ – Tai can't say no.

His calluses rasp against Tai’s skin, tender in a way Tai doesn't want to think about. (His hands are lighter, more gentle than Raven’s. Warmer than Summer’s.) He rests a questioning hand on Tai’s belt, but plays it off with a kiss when Tai redirects him to his sides. 

“Hey,” Qrow breathes, “you alright?”

His cheeks are wet. Either his shoulders or Qrow’s hands are shaking, so he tucks his head against Qrow’s chest, where he can pretend the tears are just the flutter of his heartbeat. “Sometimes,” he begins, and swallows. “Sometimes I forget she didn’t just leave me.” _Like Raven did_ , he doesn't say. Doesn't need to, for her to haunt the words.

Qrow takes a shuddering breath. “You’re kind of a mess,” he agrees. “But Summer thought you were worth fighting for.”

“Do you?”

He doesn’t look at him. Doesn’t want to see the answer written on his face, the one he deserves. But he doesn't have to look to feel Qrow snort against his skin. “Think I’d sit out here for just anybody? C’mon, Tai, you’re the last one here who remembers that thing with the window. I’d keep you alive just for that.”

“You mean the Nevermore we–”

“Threw into Ozpin’s window, yeah.” Melancholy colors Qrow’s habitual smirk. Summer always said he was far too pleased about that incident, but she isn't there to scold them this time.

“I still say it was Raven’s fault,” Tai says instead.

“She ain't exactly here to say otherwise.”

There’s bitterness in his voice. In Tai’s answering half-smile. And the wind’s raised goosebumps across his skin, even through his aura. But Qrow’s side is a familiar safety against his own, and all the bags of dirt he keeps forgetting to take out of the truck are flat and solid beneath them. He's still here. They're both still here.

Qrow shifts. “Should probably go,” he whispers. “Before a tire bursts or something.”

Tai can’t bring himself to care. Not when something feels _settled_ in him, unsteady and uncertain as it is. _Fuck it._ He’ll worry about it if it happens. For now, he catches Qrow in another kiss, stopping him before he can fly away.

He looks up at him, a thousand stars flickering in the depths of his eyes. “What was that for?”

Tai strokes a thumb along his cheek, tender reversal and empty payment both. “Just appreciating how lucky we are.”

Qrow’s eyes sink shut as he leans into Tai’s hand, and the trust, the _vulnerability_ , sets Tai’s heart alight. How is he so relaxed, when every breath is a step closer to morning? To who they are in the morning? Barely-veiled blame and grief drowned in anger and alcohol.

If Qrow’s there, in the morning. If he doesn’t leave, too.

No.

He finds Qrow’s lips again, loses himself in the press of their bodies, the heat of Qrow’s mouth, the stutter of his breath. Tomorrow. They'll worry about tomorrow tomorrow.


End file.
